


I Do

by rightonthelimit



Series: Tom/Harry Drabble Collection [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonthelimit/pseuds/rightonthelimit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry mourns the death of his husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do

**A/N** : Idk this is random. I’m sad, be sad with me. I can’t write Tom/Harry fluff like this.

**Please do not repost, recreate or translate.**

**Summary:**  Harry mourns the death of his husband.

 **Warnings:**  Character death (Tom), Alternative Universe.

**I Do**

It’s quiet in the Potter-Riddle manor, perhaps for the first time in years. There’s no laughter, no fighting, no sound of a bed creaking. Nothing. The only light in the house was coming from Harry’s phone, and he was currently staring at all the pictures of himself and his husband on it. It’s cold and he’s trembling, his head aching, his back sore from the way he was hunched over on the edge of their bed.

Harry’s so numb that he can’t even notice it all.

Old texts, emails, phone call histories, the fading smell of Tom’s cologne on his pillow case – never had Harry thought it would become something so precious to him, that he’d cling onto it so tightly it was all that was keeping him from doing something exceedingly stupid. Everything ached yet it felt like Harry could no longer feel anymore, everything was so muddled, so loaded, so clear and vague at the same time.

_I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, take you, Harry James Potter, to be my friend, my lover, the father of my children and my husband._

Harry’s been a lot of things in his lifetime. A son. A friend. A teacher, an enemy, a lover, a boyfriend, a husband, an asshole, a bitch. The only thing he never wanted to be was a widower.

Death was inevitable, that much was true, but it also seemed impossible to someone who’s never experienced it up close no matter how realistic they were. The concept seemed difficult to grasp, after all – people became parts of your life, became connected to habits, and habits never went away fully. Tom never was supposed to go away either.

_I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want,_

Everything seemed so meaningless now that Harry’s voice of reason was drowned out by all of his sorrow. Fickle, replaceable. Harry didn’t make a difference in the world and he never would. He was a normal guy, you see, he used to have normal desires. All he had ever wanted was some happiness and maybe a family of his own, one that would treat him with the love and respect he deserved. He had found that in Tom.

_in times of sickness and in times of health,_

Why did things like this happen? Harry couldn’t quite tell. He couldn’t tell anything, to be honest. Ever since the news hit him he hasn’t eaten, hasn’t slept. How could he, and why should he, when there was no one left to share everything with? Life has never been lonelier than it was now. At least when he’d still been a boy who was locked up in his family’s cupboard underneath the stairs, he still had his dreams. Now, only emptiness remained. Emptiness and no crushed dreams, but  _ashes_ of said dreams. Everything had turned into dust and it was slipping through his fingers. His future, his marriage. Tom.

_in times of joy and in times of sorrow,_

And what a handsome man he’s been. So charming, eloquent. Such a bastard behind closed doors. A part of Harry hated Tom for leaving him behind like this, hated Tom for just doing this to him, as if Tom’s death was his own decision. It wasn’t.

_in times of failure and in times of triumph._

Harry didn’t feel a thing when he started watching a shitty, low quality video he had shot of Tom when he’d been watching tv, surprisingly. Tom’s sarcastic comments didn’t make Harry feel a thing, the narrowing of Tom’s eyes as he caught on with the reason why Harry was aiming his phone at him didn’t make him happy nor sad.

He was hollow. Inside out.

_I promise to cherish and respect you,_

Harry paused the video and went through his list of contacts. There were so many things to arrange and it wasn’t fair that Harry wasn’t even allowed time to grieve. Making a funeral happen was the last thing on Harry’s mind.

_to care and protect you,_

‘Hermione, it’s me,’ Harry said after ringing her number and hearing her utter a sleepy  _Harry?_ And suddenly, there were tears stinging in his eyes. Why did it hurt to speak? It didn’t hurt to think. It didn’t hurt to see either, so why should this be any different? ‘I – I need help.’

And then Harry was suddenly crying, thick, hot tears rolling over his cheeks, his breaths coming out ragged, his shoulders rising and falling with each choking gasp. ‘I need help to pick out… Pick out a suit. For the funeral. I already picked out Tom’s, you see – his favorite suit, the one he wore at our wedding… I… I thought it’d be fitting. Since he promised… Hermione, he  _promised-!_ ’

_‘Harry? Harry – please, calm down for a bit -’_

Harry thought he heard Ron’s sleepy voice in the background and Harry closed his eyes and tried to breathe properly through his nose, but he wondered, how could he when his heart was ripped to pieces in his chest?

‘What if he was in a lot of pain, Hermione?’ Harry whimpered, ‘what if – I just can’t handle this?’

‘Where are you now, Harry?’

‘Home.’ Harry could feel the bitterness rise inside of him. Home. Could he even consider this house a home now when love and safety and comfort was what made a house a home, and that was ripped out of Harry’s life? ‘Home,’ Harry insisted.

‘Okay. I’ll go get dressed and then I’ll come over, okay? It’s going to be fine. Please stay put.’

_to comfort and encourage you,_

Harry didn´t really say anything because words failed him. He hung up, let himself fall backwards onto his bed, and kept crying. There was nothing that could explain this and never in a million years had Harry expected to be in so much pain. Tom’s always made him feel alive. It’s just that Harry doesn’t like being alive feeling like this.

_and stay with you, for all eternity._

 


End file.
